Vic vs Vic
by EnforcerAndAccuserFan
Summary: One of their own is the vic. And the crime ultimately leads to a figure from the past! I don't own any "Law & Order" characters. Rated T due to the age of the victim. The investigation hits a snag.  Can Goren and Eames find a solution?
1. Chapter 1

**The 16th Precinct, Manhatten, 10:45PM**

Detective Odafin Tutuola was finishing a report when his cell phone rang. Suspecting his son Ken, with whom he had a breakfast date tomorrow, he answered with a casual "What up?"

Nearby, Detective Sergeant John Munch worked quietly on his files. As always, his mind was intensely focused on his own work. However, certain sounds could engage his attention. For example, his partner's abrupt rising caused him to look up from his computer. And he immediately became concerned by what his various senses perceived.

Fin's face was fallen almost to the point of tears. Incrediblely, his voice was steady and gently reassuring. "All right, kid, take it easy, it's gonna be okay. Now, do you know where you're at?...Is there a ladies clothing store across the---yeah, that's the one; I know where you're at. Listen, I'm going to call a black and white unit to pick you up and get you to the hospital, and I'll meet you there, OK?...No, I'm not going tell anyone. Don't worry about that. You just hang in there, all right?...Don't hesitate to call me back if you feel you have to."

"Fin, is everything OK?" Munch asked, though he knew the answer to his question.

"No, and I got to go, now!" He sprinted out of the door, phone open.

Sighing, Munch shook his head in sympathy. _It's gotta be his son. Blast! Just as they were reconciling again!_

**Mercy General Hospital, 10 minutes later**

Fin hurried up to the uniformed officer standing outside of the exam room. A tall, burly dark-haired man, he was standing in front of the door, his arms crossed over his chest, when the detective flashed his badge and identified himself. Unfolding his arms, the patrol cop quickly and discretely gave the unfortunate details.

"He lurched over as soon as Pat---my partner---entered the alley with the blanket," he explained.

"What do you mean, 'lurched?!' Was he injured?!" Fin's brow furrowed deeply.

A sigh accompanied the uniform's grim nod. "Black eye, bloody lip _and_ nose, whelts on his legs, hurt ribs---he says they were hurting him---but he wants you to be there with him."

"Excuse me!"

Both men looked up as a slim, middle-aged man in scrubs approached. "I'm Dr. Connally. Please tell me you're 'Detective Fin.'"

"I am." He showed his badge. "Detective Odafin Tutuola. They call me 'Fin.'"

"Fine," the physican said, relaxing. "He's going to need, along with everything else, X-rays of his thorax. I wanted start the treatment ASAP. But he insists on having _you_ with him. Right now, the other officer's inside with him, but...well, let's go and help him."

As he entered the room, Fin forced himself to hide his horror and outrage. _ I gotta keep it together, or he's gonna lose it. And we can't afford that! _He approached the exam table, exchanging a quick nod with the other uniform, who stepped back as Tutuola arrived at the young male's side_. _"Hey, Richard," he said gently. "I'm here for you, kid."

_Author's note: A famous writer stated in a book that a story just comes to you. That's what happened here. Although it seems familiar, it's not the same story as "The Most Bitter Blow." Also, this story occurs sometime before the events of the premiere of this season's "Law & Order: Criminal Intent."_


	2. Chapter 2

16-year-old Richard Stabler, giving the faintest nod, was in great physical dishevelment. His legs bore angry red narrow marks. Dirt mixed with congealed blood on his left temple. With his head turned away to one side, his discolored left eye, puffy cheek, swollen nose and lips were visible.

Fin decided to help the 16-year-old through the various examinations. First, he gently explained why the doctor would be asking him personal questions, such as whether he had previously had sex with a male. He also emphasized that he did not have to press charges, but it was best that he make a report in case he decided to in the future. Finally, he reminded him that he had "nothing to be ashamed of. And everyone here in this room has your back." This last statment was punctuated by definative nods from the ER doctor and the uniform, who then excused himself to wait with his partner for "the suits."

Richard, who had been sitting in silent shame, suddenly turned his head to exclaim: "What detectives?! From where?!"

"Relax, they're from the Major Case Squad at One Police Plaza, so you're not going to get just anyone," soothed the officer, holding up his hands.

"He's worried about his father---" Fin began.

"I don't want to see anyone from his squad! Nobody but you!" Richard interrupted, his head bowed once again.

"S'okay, kid, it's just like the man said," Tutuola reassured. "It's gonna be someone from Major Case. We're gonna do everything we can to help you through this."

"He's right," the physician added, nodding. "I've treated teenaged boys for this before, so you're in good hands."

_What he really means is that he's sympathetic and nonjugemental. Great bedside manner, Doc._ Fin saw Richard nod once, sighing, so obviously the doctor's words had the right effect.

Two hours later, Richard was in a private hospital room. A rape kit had been done, and his injuries had been catalogued, treated, and/or photographed. Penecilan had been administered. Fin stood by his bedside, trying to comfort him when there was a knock at the door. Two detectives entered: a slender redhead with a professional mien and a tall, stocky, dark-haired male holding a leather binder.

"Richard Stabler? I'm Sergeant Eames, and this is my partner Detective Goren," the woman stated gently. "First of all, we're both very sorry about what happened to you. That's why we want to get a statement from you."

"I know," the boy replied wearily. "Go ahead; I'll probably want to press charges sometime."

"Excuse me," interrupted Goren, cocking his head sideways and looking directly at Fin, "aren't you Detective Tutuola, the outcry witness?"

"Yeah, that's me," the other man replied, showing his badge.

"Is it OK if I speak to him outside while Eames takes your statement?" The question was directed at Richard.

"Yeah, sure, whatever." Although he sounded indifferent, he felt enornmous relief. He doubted that such a big police officer would sympathize with his version of events.

Once the men were outside, Eames moved to the teen's bedside. "OK, Richard," she began carefully, "just tell me what happened. And remember: I'm not going to judge you for anything. You're not the one at fault here."

"I know," he responded quietly, as if he had doubts---or guilt. Then more audibly: "I was leaving a study session with my friend Keshawn Robertson, from school, and I...I was feeling kinda bad on account of my grades. I mean, Keshawn's struggling like me, but at least he has an excuse. He moved here in January from Newark to live with his uncle and aunt, and his old school was real bad. Me, I, I just never...I mean, school's just not my favorite thing." He paused.

"And about what time did you and your friend part?" she inquired.

He looked up at the ceiling then back at her. "A little after 7. I checked my watch to see how quickly I could get to my sister's apartment. You see, she's sharing a rent controlled place in Manhatten with a friend she met in nursing school. I figured I could sneak over to see her. I kinda needed advice." He turned his head away as he added softly, "Dad always could ground me later after I spoke to her."

_He feels bad about sneaking behind his father's back._ Eames was about to comfort him, but he looked towards her again, talking.

"I had just left the library and was walking down the street to get to the bus stop, when this car, this limo, rolls up beside me in, and the girl inside sticks her head out. She calls to me, we begin to talk as her car stops, and well, I guess I got inside." He sighed, looking upwards. "It was a girl; I figured, 'What can happen?'"

Now his words came rapidly as he continued. "We kept talking about our problems, and felt bad for each other and ourselves, and, well, there was an open bottle in car---I figured, 'Why not, I'm in enough trouble as it is?'" So we drink too much, and, and, I don't, she came onto me and, and I...I just did, it." He closed his eyes, sighing hard. A tear seeped from his bruised eye. "I...I've never hooked up...I figured, that, if, if it was OK for me, than, it was OK for my twin sister, and, I don't want her..." After another deep exhale, he admitted, "I felt so bad, after."

_And you still feel bad._

"She was so thrilled, she got on the phone and started talking about it to someone who called, uh, Mandy, on the car phone. I was just fixing my clothes and wanting to get out of there. Then she began making plans about how we were going to spend the night out together, but I told her no. That's when she got real upset---crying and cursing at the same time. She gets on the phone and tells the driver to stop. After we stop she jumps out slamming the door."

_He's speaking so quickly. He must be coming to the attack._

"I don't know how long I sat there, but suddenly I hear voices---guy voices---and I hear footsteps and the door next to me is opened. I turned and then the door on the other side opens...and...I...." Now his chest was heaving.

"They came at me at the same time," he continued in a broken voice. "They began hitting me, and...dragged me out...forced me on the ground...took...my...pants...my jacket and tie...that's when...one...he...I didn't want..." His face was contorted as he began sobbing quietly.

Eames, having interviewed male rape victims as a vice cop, was thus experienced with such emotions. So she waited patiently for a few minutes, allowing him a release, followed by a weak composure. Then she broached the next subject carefully.

"Are you ready to continue?"

After his nod, she then inquired tactfully, "Were you penetrated?"

"First he, he, he played, he touched...said that he didn't want to get his mouth 'tainted,' so he used his hands."

"On your genitals?"

"Yeah, and then...I...he...sodomized...me." His last word was barely audible.

"What happened after that?"

"First, the other one...began...beating me with a belt...then they...got me back into the car, got in, and...one rested his foot on my, throat...so I couldn't move...when, when the other...stomped on me." His hand moved to his side in painful recollection. "Then the car stopped---it had started up when they'd put me back in---and I was laying on the sidewalk...don't know how. Hurt so bad...could barely make it to the alley."

"Thank you. Now, Richard," the sergeant said, after writing the last part down, "can you remember where it took place?"

"I..don't know, some, some place with a lot of old buildings---there was grass, litter, including a beer bottle---my face hit right up against it---and...maybe I heard somebody run and yell, or maybe yell and somebody else run..." He began weeping again.

Meanwhile, outside another interview was being conducted. Fin went over his side of the events, recounting the phone call ("I gave him my card during one of his visits when his folks were separated."), his hasty departure ("I called dispatch to pick him before I was in the elevator!"),and finally, the first contact with the victim ("Poor kid," he sighed, shaking his head.).

"To the best of your knowledge, does Richard have any problems with classmates, friends, or girlfriends?" Goren inquired, writing in his binder.

"Well, a little while ago, he ran away after a fight at school," Fin explained. "He was defending a friend, who later died---not by the other kids, though. Some addict who probably didn't have a friend in the world, except for his junk. Richard caught up to him and tried to force a confession out of him, but his dad and Detective Benson---Stabler's partner---stopped him from going too far."

"And you're sure this addict had no connections...?"

Fin nodded confidantly. "He was just a regular street junkie. And he wasn't talking about pressing charges, especially when we were able to connect him to the friend's murder."

"Hmm." The other cop continued writing. "Does he have any history with drugs, gangs, gambling, or older women?"

"No, no, none of that. That thing with his friend was the first time he ever gave Elliot cause for concern." Fin sighed again, frowning. "You know, Detective Stabler is going to fit to be tied when he learns about this. He's very protective about his kids."

Some time later, at the Stabler residence, Elliot Stabler and his wife wait in their kitchen. She was concerned as she stood holding Baby Eli. He was annoyed as he sipped coffee and checked his watch.

Suddenly, the telephone's ring interrupted their silent vigil. Kathy watched anxiously as her husband grimly snatched the receiver. Then her anxiety morphed into terror as she observed his face...


	3. Chapter 3

While Elliot Stabler raced towards Manhattan, his son lay in bed, glumly reflecting on the last part of his interview.

"_Are you sure you're ready to continue, Richard?"_

"_Yes…yes."_

"_All right, can you describe the men who attacked you?"_

"_One was British...tall, with short hair like mine, but…but blond…the other was American, with curly dark hair…he was heavier…"_

"_Were they both Caucasian?"_

"_Yes."_

"_When you say they were tall, are you saying that they are taller than you...?"_

"_Yes, yes, yes!"_

"_Can you tell me anything else, like something about their clothes or-"_

"_They were wearing suits! Dark two-piece suits with dark ties!"_

"_OK, Richard, that's fine. Now, let's move on to the girl-"_

"_She was blond with blue eyes, I don't know her name!"_

At this point the detectives had ended the exchange. After tactfully thanking him, she had departing, leaving her card "just in case you remember anything more."

_She __knows__ I'm holding back-I just know she does! But…how can I tell her-or anyone else? That will change __everything!_Turning his head away from the vigilant Fin, he allowed the tears to quietly stream down his injured face.

Eventually, Elliot abruptly entered the hospital room. Approaching the bed quickly, his wide, bleary eyes took in his son's injuries and tear stains. The longer he looked, the deeper he frowned.

"P-please, Dad, I'm sorry!" Richard managed brokenly.

"Hey! This isn't your fault, son!" Elliot's face softened.

Standing on the opposite side of the bed, Fin suppressed a deep sigh of relief. _So far, so good. Keep it together, El._

"We'll get you through this. Trust me: we'll get you through this." Stabler continued to give comfort. "You just rest for the night. OK? Just try to get some sleep tonight."

After his son nodded and closed his eyes, Elliot looked across to Fin and gestured towards the door. Understanding, Fin quietly moved to join Elliot in the hallway. _Here it comes._

As soon as the door closed, Stabler demanded quietly, "How did this happen?"

"He was walking home from the library when he accepted a ride from a rich girl in a limo. According to Richard, they got together, she felt hurt, and a couple of her friends took revenge. When they left him, Richard called me and gave me the details." Fin kept his voice sympathetic.

"Who are the investigating officers?"

"They left their cards with Richard inside, but I wouldn't call them tonight. Give them some time to gather more evidence." _And give yourself time to cool your heels! You need to be a __father__, not a cop!_

Elliot considered Fin's words, sighed in acquiescence, and then switched topics. "Why didn't you call me?"

"First of all, Richard didn't request your presence, so I figured he wasn't up to seeing you just yet-and you _know_ that's not unusual with the vics. And second, I knew you would've tried to get involved in the investigation-just like you are now-so I didn't push the issue! And last but not least, the defense is gonna attack my credibility as it is. If I had met with you before giving my statement, the jury would've heard a conspiracy

theory that could easily acquit the party responsible! I know you don't want that, El."

Sighing, Elliot closed his eyes and bowed his head. "You're right, Fin. I'm sorry."

Tutuola put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about it, man. You just go in and be with your boy, OK? Major Case is taking care of it; they'll be in touch if anything comes up."

While Elliot returned to his son's bedside and Fin drove back to the 1-6, Goren and Eames continued the investigation. First, they checked with the CSU team at the site of Richard's ejection, where tire marks indicated a speedy getaway. Just as they finished conferring with the lead tech, Eames received a cell phone call.

"That was Sergeant Olsen from the canvass in Glen Oaks," she exclaimed a minute later. "Earlier this evening, a limo pulled into a gas station. An attendant says that he vehicle was moving oddly, almost sideswiping the pumps as it pulled up. And the driver was a teenage girl!"

Her partner scribbled in his open leather binder. "OK, did he get a look at her?"

She nodded. "Yes, and so did the security cameras. But more importantly, the female passenger got out to buy a snack. He says he recognized her from the tabloids. "

"So, she's either a celebrity or the daughter of one."

"Try two: musicians Jared Black and Rikki Austin."

Immediately Goren stopped writing to look up. "Then the mystery girl is Ashley Austin Black, the girl that got taken from her home temporarily for emotional neglect, only to get sent back for more."1

"And wasn't it the 1-6-Detective Stabler's precinct-involved with her case?" She frowned thoughtfully.

Sighing, he nodded. "For his sake, I hope he wasn't one of those trying to help young Ms. Black." 

1 Still hurting from her mother's recent death, Olivia Benson put her career on the line to intervene in Ashley's life, but her mother somehow sidestepped the family court judge's orders to participate in parent-child therapy. Thus, she was free to go on a European tour, leaving her child at home…again.


	4. Chapter 4

**One Police Plaza, Major Case Squad, the captain's office, 7PM**

"OK, what do we have?" Captain Daniel Ross asked brusquely, sitting behind his desk.

"Well, to begin," Alex explained as she sat opposite, "we know that last night, 16-year-old Richard Stabler-son of Manhattan SVU Detective Elliot Stabler-accepted a ride with _Ashley Austin Black_, daughter of famous musicians _Jared Black_ and _Rikki_ _Austin_. According to young Mr. Stabler, they had consensual sex in her limo, after which she became upset and made a phone call or phone calls outside the car. Subsequently, two males showed up and assaulted him-_one physically_, the other _sexually_. Later, Stabler was driven to a deserted street in Manhattan and forced out half-naked near an alley!"

Ross shook his head, frowning more deeply. "And then Ms. Black takes off for another night of fun on the town! I know about her; my sons keep me informed."

"I don't have any kids, and _I'm_ informed! Lately, she's made the news at least once a week, usually with another loud appearance at some red carpet event, or acting crazy at a shopping mall, or just roaming about the Big Apple in some outrageous garment!" Sighing in disgust, the sergeant shook her head.

"I wonder what the press is going to say about last night," mused Ross. "What else have you and Goren uncovered?"

"Well, we know that the limo driver is one LaDonna Sinclair," she stated, "and that her father, Bertrand Sinclair, is the authorized driver."

"For whom?"

"None other than Ophelia Van Pelt, the 'Diamond Dowager of Long Island.'"

"Wait, she lives in Long Island! And how did Ashley Black get in the car? Obviously, LaDonna is going to have some explaining to do when you interview her!"

"Actually, I was thinking that we can use grand theft auto charges to ensure her cooperation, if it comes to that."

"And even if it doesn't, charge her anyway! Since one of our own is involved, we have to look completely above any impropriety, especially since the artfully dodging Austin and Black may come into play! Now, what else?"

"Unfortunately, forensics has come up with nothing. And the rape kit reveals that the perp isn't in the system."

"Not yet-Ashley knows the name of at least one of the guys!" He rose to exit the room. "By the way, what's your partner doing with all this?"

She followed him out of the room. "He's organizing our information and plotting our next move. Neither of us wants to make a misstep that will let these two perps walk or give Rikki Austin an opening to impede the investigation1. "

They found Detective Goren standing in front of a large dry board. He was writing furiously, his mind in deep concentration. So when he finally turned around, he seemed almost surprised that he had an audience of two.

"OK, here's how things stand," he stated. "First"-he pointed-"we need to speak to Ms. Sinclair."

"Why do you want to talk to her first?" Ross inquired. "Ashley obviously knows at least one of the perps' identity."

"I seriously doubt that she's willing to implicate herself in a rape case," explained Goren. "So, I think that if we arrive armed with the driver's information, she'll be less able to show us the door and barricade herself behind her parents' high-priced attorneys."

Nodding, the captain asked, "You wouldn't know where her parents are right now, would you? It might be even easier if neither of them were present."

"Well, according to _my_ research, Rikki is on the final leg of her latest European tour-Hamburg, Germany," Eames replied. "She's due back in the States in two days. But Jared Black checked into a private polyclinic in London two days ago. His condition is unknown; his publicist told the media that he 'is resting comfortably and needs to recharge after a health-related setback.'"

"In other words, he's probably in rehab," Bobby said, smirking.

"But the bottom line is: neither parent is currently in town," Ross said, "so we won't have to deal with attempts from them to coach her or make her unavailable."

"What about the staff?" Bobby asked.

"Given her public behavior, I don't think they have much of a handle on her!" Ross found it difficult to keep straight face. "OK, I like your approach. Just keep me informed of all developments!"

**A midtown Manhattan diner, 7:30AM**

"Dad, what is it?" a concerned Ken asked, sitting opposite his father. "Did something happen with the family?"

Internally encouraged by his son's attitude, Fin replied solemnly, "No, kid, but thanks for caring. This is about a case that hit close to home last night." He took another drink of black coffee.

After ordering coffee from the approaching waitress, the younger man asked, "Something happened to one of your colleagues?"

"You remember Elliot Stabler, right? Well, last night, his teenage boy became a special victim." Normally blunt-spoken, Tutuola somehow could not say "rape" in front of his own son.

"Aw, no! That guy's in no shape to handle anything like that! I mean, he's a cop, but he kinda struck me as the type that lives in a rosy-colored world-or wants to!" Ken paused to grab sugar packs for his arriving coffee.

"You're not far from the mark." Fin accepted a refill from the waitress. "His big wake-up call came from his troubles with his daughter Kathleen with her bipolar disorder. Then Richard got into a little trouble looking for his friend, who was murdered. Now, just when he's trying to get past all that…" He sighed, shaking his head.

"Yeah, Dad, it's a rough world out there," Ken sympathized. "Just last night, this runaway hobbled into the shelter on a piece of broken ladder. He'd taken a bad fall in a dilapidated warehouse and then dragged himself outside only to witness a rape and beating! According to him, a girl stood by a limo watching as two men worked over a third guy, then put him in the limo and drove off-with the girl riding shotgun…"

At the word "limo" Fin's attention was rapt. Now he interrupted: "Wait a minute, when and where did this attack take place?"

**Meanwhile, at the 16 Precinct…**

Detective Olivia Benson stood agape in Captain Cragen's office. _This can't be happening. This __shouldn't__ be happening!_

"When-how?" she heard herself ask.

"Last night," he replied softly, obviously sadden. "Fin received the call from Dickie2 and notified a unit for going to the hospital."

"So, Fin's the outcry witness." She fell back into cop mode, partially to regain control of her emotions and partially because doing so made it easier to deal with this horrific situation. "Who's handling the case?"

"Major Case at 1PP's got this one," Cragen explained, also falling back into a professional mindset. "Captain Ross assured me that they are not going to rest until they nail whoever's responsible!"

**The Stabler Residence, 8:05AM**

Richard Stabler, having showered and changed into his own clothes, stood in front of his bedroom window, glaring at the sunshine-filled morning. His neighbors were getting into vehicles or heading to bus stops. He was definitely not going to school, or anywhere else. In fact, he had no idea what he was going to do.

_What a freakin' night! First, I'm batting a near zero with getting my grades up; then, I'm stupid enough to get in the car with a crazy celebrity bimbo; and then, if that weren't enough, I get hot and heavy with her-after a bit of illegal drinking! And when I try to be straight with her afterwards, she goes and calls her #%# pals who-who-who- _

Suddenly, he turned and bolted out of his room. Racing down the hallway, where he nearly collided with his twin sister Elizabeth, he had one destination in mind: the bathroom. Once inside, he slammed the door shut, hastily locked it, and bounded into the bathtub. After pulling the curtains closed, he turned on the shower, grateful that the hot spray hid his silent tears as he stripped his clothes off.

1 In Season Two first Rikki Austin filed a restraining order against the department when Olivia's concerned actions displeased her. Later, after a family court hearing restored her daughter's custody to her, the singer smugly warned Benson to stay away or "I'll have your badge!"

2 As seen in "Turmoil," the adults in Richard's life still refer to him as "Dick" or "Dick" despite his preference for the appellation "Richard."


	5. Chapter 5

**Nassau County Police Precinct, Manhasset, Long Island, New York, 9:05AM**

Sitting on a chair in the interrogation room, the African-American teen bore little resemblance to a stereotype car thief. She was of average height and build, with wavy red-tinted dark hair touching her school uniform jacket. Her worry-creased forehead was tilted down towards the table while her right hand fretfully stroked her left.

Eames and Goren knew that she would be easy to crack.

"Well, young lady," the sergeant firmly stated as she sat across from the suspect, "you're in a lot of trouble. Of course, first you 'borrowed' your father's employer's car without permission-that's why you were arrested at school. You continued your joyride into New York City, where the vehicle was used in the commission of a felony."

Now the girl's head snapped up. "What do you mean?" Her eyes were wide, and both hands were clenched.

"Well, for starters," Goren explained, glowering down at her from Eames' side, "it was used to transport a person against his will-that's called 'kidnapping'-and during this trip, the victim was battered." He tilted his head sideways before continuing. "Now my first question: where did you take perpetrators afterwards?"

"Ashley told me to take them back to their car!" LaDonna's answer came swiftly. "I did, and they drove away. We-I didn't see them anymore!" Already she was distancing herself from young Ms. Black.

"Where did you two go from there?" Eames inquired authoritatively.

"Ashley drank some merlot she had with her. She got it from home, I guess. I told her that maybe she should go home. You see, I was pretty worried about the car being missed-Daddy had taken Ms. Van Pelt to the hospital in the Bentley-so I convinced her to go to her townhouse in Manhattan. After I dropped her off, I went right home!"

"You mean to Mrs. Van Pelt's home, where you stole the limo." Eames began another topic. "How was that accomplished?"

"D-Dad took her to visit a sick relative in the Bentley," came the barely audible reply. "I…went to a slumber party right before they left. As you can tell…I go to the same school as the neighborhood kids."

"Mrs. Van Pelt pays for this, doesn't she?" "Goren interjected.

Sighing and bowing her head, the girl answered softly, "Yes." She brushed the back of her right hand against her eye.

His thoughts speeding forward, the detective cocked his head sideways as he continued: "There probably weren't a lot of servants' daughters at this party."

"I was invited as a joke by one of my classmates." Now she lifted her head, her words spoken more readily. "They kept talking about skiing vacations and specialty summer camps, and then they'd asked if _I_ had done the same things. Of course I haven't-Dad's putting aside college money-so of course they were amused!" She was frowning now.

"But Ashley didn't laugh at you, did she?"

"How'd you know she was there?" LaDonna seemed surprised.

"Her parents' producer has a house in the neighborhood," he answered casually1. "I'm sure his daughter invited her to give a little 'star quality' to her party. I'll bet Ashley knew this, too. That's why you two bailed, right?"

Still amazed, the teen nodded.

"Then you went back to your-excuse me, Ms. Van Pelt's residence, right?"

Another nod was given.

"And that's when you stole the limousine."

Caught off guard, LaDonna quickly managed, "She said her ride wasn't expected until morning, and she wanted to get home soon! She didn't want to wait for hours-"

"Oh, no, of course not!" Goren nodded in mock empathy. "Not in Mrs. Van Pelt's Tudor-style mansion, with the billiard room, the media center, and her well-stock kitchen…"

_I'm going to ask him which periodical he got those tidbits from_, thought Eames as she looked up at her partner.

"…why didn't stay at Mrs. Van Pelt's?"

"Ashley wanted to cruise! She talked me into taking the limo after Dad called to say that he was going to be at the hospital all night. You see, Mrs. Van Pelt's granddaughter was in a bad car accident, so she was going to be at the hospital until both her son and daughter-in-law get back from Europe!"

"So while your father was helping his employer keep a vigil, you betray her trust to go to the City, right?" Eames said drolly.

"It was Ashley's idea!"

"Was it her idea to call her guy friends?" Goren increased the pressure.

"Yes, yes! I had nothing to do with that! When I saw what they were doing, I just looked away-"

"And did nothing!" the tall detective roared, leaning closer to the teen. "You did _nothing_ while that boy was being _violated_, and then you drove around while he was being _brutalized_ **right behind you!**"

Bowing her head again, the high school student began to sob in anguished guilt.

**One Police Plaza, minutes later**

"What happened, Eames?" Captain Ross said into his phone.

"Well, they're processing her for grand theft auto," he heard Alex answered, "and they're going to charge her ASAP so she can be brought over to our jurisdiction. She's already given a lot of information, but we're not done with her yet."

"Great," he stated, nodding. "And I've got good news of my own. Earlier we got a tip about a witness, a runaway who saw a rape. After we got his statement, CSU went to a vacant lot on the West Side, near some old warehouses. They found Richard's pants-his empty wallet was nearby-along with his tie, jacket, shoes and socks, along with a gold cuff link. We're awaiting lab results."

**Meanwhile, at the 16****th****…**

It was difficult, but Fin forced himself to work at his desk. _At least Ken's information was helpful. If it weren'tt for that, I wouldn't be able to think straight enough to-_

Somehow, he noticed a sudden and brief stillness in the bullpen's usual bustle. It was a familiar pause. Looking up, he found that his hunch was correct: the Chief of Detectives, accompanied by two deputies, was making his purposeful way to Cragen's office.

1 Detective Goren has an amazing store of knowledge of a number of subjects.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: _This chapter contains expressions which may offend some people. These words come from a very traumatized and angry male rape victim, who will later deal with his attitude about rape, among other problems. Also, his misguided opinions are not endorsed by the author_.

**The 16****th**** Precinct**

"Detective Tutuola, please come into my office," Captain Cragen ordered minutes later.

"Detective," said the Chief solemnly, after Fin was seated behind closed doors, "I want to commend you on your involvement in the Stabler rape case. Your tip led us to an eyewitness, and you've otherwise restricted your involvement to that of outcry witness."

"And it's going to stay that way, sir," Tutuola reassured decisively. "I'm not giving any defense attorney a chance to claim a rush to judgment."

"That's a good thing, because of whom we're dealing with," Chief Muldrew said, standing beside the seated captain. "Major Case has learned that the female passenger was Ashley Austin Black." He paused, watching Fin's reaction.

"_What?_ I-I always _knew_ that girl was going to get into real trouble eventually; I just didn't think it would involve…I can't believe-she called those punks; she's guilty of complicity!" The detective found it difficult to control his emotions and words.

"Take it easy, Fin, though I know it's not easy," Cragen interjected firmly and gently. "We all want to see justice with this one."

"That's why it's _imperative_ that you continue to do what you're already doing," Muldrew declared. "Let the Major Case detectives handle it, and don't speak to the press! If someone from Ms. Austin's camp says something publicly, 1PP will deal with it accordingly. Also, don't discuss anything about the case with anyone else, except for a counselor, such as a department shrink or minister if you need those services. Her parents' lawyers are going to work overtime on this; I don't want there to be any screw-ups this time. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal-sir!" Fin responded, conveying the proper respect.

**Meanwhile, at the Stabler residence…**

"Elliot, that's the third shower that he's taken this morning!" Kathy fretted quietly, sitting beside her husband on their bed.

His hands clasped and his head bowed, Elliot replied grimly, "It's a common reaction to rape. The vic-our son-feels dirty." He stopped, squeezing his eyes shut to collect his thoughts.

"There are support groups for boys, right?" She put a hopeful hand on his shoulder.

He raised his head, eyes now open. "That's right, thanks for reminding me, Kathy," he said. "I'll tell Dickie when I bring him something to eat." _Hopefully, he'll want it._

"_**No!**_ _**No!**_ No way!" the teen shouted 30 minutes later. "I'm not gonna sit in a room full of _gays _and _losers_ to _whine and cry_ about my _^#$%_ feelings!" He spat the final work abhorrently.

"Dickie, please!" Elliot, standing opposite the boy in his room, tried to reason with his son. "It's not about being _homosexual_ or _weak_-it's about _power and control!_ And you were overwhelmed by-"

"I know, I know, Dad, you don't have to remind me!" Turning abruptly and touching his side, he moved to his window furiously.

Resisting the urge to follow, the detective decided to give the boy space. "Listen, son, I'm trying to help you." His voice was gentle, almost pleading. "I know what you're going through-"

"**No you don't! No you don't! No you don't! No you don't!**" Richard, his red face tearfully contorted, moved to grab the full plate resting on his desk. Hurling it unsuccessfully at his father, the boy sank to his knees, crying out in thoracic pain.

Listening in the hall, Kathy quietly sobbed. _Please God, help him-help him! Because I don't think we can!_


	7. Chapter 7

**Residence of Rikki Austin and Jared Black, Manhattan, late morning**

Connie, Rikki's personal assistant, showed Goren and Eames into a parlor. There Ashley reclined under a silky comforter on a daybed. Despite the room's classical décor and furniture, its occupant was surprisingly (or not surprisingly, considering her reputation) unkempt. Her hair was disheveled, her Ralph Lauren polo shirt was stained _(…with the contents of that ice bucket at her side?_ Bobby speculated.), and her eyes were bloodshot.

"How can I help you, officers?" she asked casually but wearily.

"We're here regarding an incident that occurred last night," Eames began.

"Miss Ashley was visiting friends in Long Island," the p.a. interjected from the doorway, "_all night._"

"And how is that relevant," Goren inquired, "considering that we haven't given the location involved?"

"Well, you are New York City police officers, so the event must have occurred in one of the five boroughs," she managed smoothly.

"First of all, parts of Long Island are covered by the NYPD," Eames explained firmly, focusing on Connie's eyes, "and second, we haven't given a time frame. So, there are still some questions that she needs to answer."

"Not without one of the attorneys present!"

"Why should you need an attorney, Ms. Black?" Goren asked the teen, raising his eyebrows and cocking his head sideways.

"Please leave now!" The p.a. moved briskly towards them with the obvious intent of escorting them to the front door.

"We'll leave you our cards. Have your attorney contact us when you're ready," Eames stated crisply.

After leaving the items with the girl (who weakly smiled and waved), they departed from the room with Connie. Her silence was mentally noted by both detectives. Not surprisingly, she slammed the door closed as soon as Bobby stepped onto the stoop.

"Not a lot of finesse there," Alex remarked, indicating the p.a. "I mean, usually the help acts steady in the face of incrimination, but the longer we stayed, the more she fell apart."

"I suspect she probably has done a better job with running interference," her partner replied thoughtfully. "However, after all the crises that she's had to handle over the years, she just _may_ be approaching her breaking point. And why did she mention the lawyers _before _we told her what happened and how Ashley was involved?"

"I think she suspects something-due to something mentioned or overheard, or maybe just because Ashley returned from her slumber party so early-"Eames' cell phone ring cut into her final words.

"There was a hit on a partial print from that cuff link," she said a minute later, quickly leading her partner back to their car. "She's texting the name and address." She opened her door and slid behind the wheel. Once inside, she handed the phone to Goren before taking off.

"Hmm," he said a minute later, "if this is who I think it is, we are going to have a major media storm on our hands."

**Office of Captain Dan Ross, One Police Plaza**

District Attorney John J. McCoy wasted no time getting to his point. Sitting opposite the captain, he spoke with resolved urgency. "Considering the department's history with one of the probable witnesses, Executive Assistant District Attorney Michael Cutter will take the case! And I'm not just speaking about a fresh start! We're going to be going up against the best lawyers that money can buy. When faced with that caliber of attorney, Cutter has proven to be skillful enough, knowledgeable enough, and yes, when necessary, clever enough to come out on top! So I want your people to give him full cooperation!"

"Yes, Mr. McCoy, they-we will," declared Ross, nodding. "I understand the stakes involved. We don't want the show biz reps to make this into 'poor persecuted Rikki Austin' vs. 'the witch hunting NYPD.' When my detectives report back, I'll give them the 411."

**The Stabler residence**

Richard was on his bed, lying on his good side to get comfortable. Suddenly, he heard a knock at the door. Sighing, he got up to answer, assuming that it was his mother with another meal. But when he opened the door, he was horrified to see two sinisterly smirking male faces.

"We still know what you did!" shouted one before the merciless onslaught of blows and kicks.

Awaking abruptly, Richard found himself safely alone in his room. But relief was not his. Instead, the haunted youth turned his head to one side and silently cried.


	8. Chapter 8

**One Police Plaza**

"He's a _what?_" Captain Ross could barely prevent shouting.

"He's the son of a British diplomatic staffer," Eames repeated, a note of frustration in her voice. "I know immunity can be waived, but…"

"All right, I understand," Ross sighed. "I'll call Cutter; maybe he or McCoy can do something along those lines. In the meantime, check in with young Mr. Stabler. Maybe he'll remember something else, _anything_ that can get help us with this possible snag."

After hanging up with the sergeant, the captain leaned back in his chair, sighing in exasperation. _This case just keeps getting better and better. If the DA's or the detectives can't make something happen, we're all screwed-__especially__ the Stabler kid! Plus, the last thing I want is for a group of VIP kiddies to get off scot-free!_

Meanwhile, sitting in their police sedan, Bobby presented an idea. "I think a photo ID is in order. If Richard can identify our suspect, immunity would be easier to waiver."

Eames nodded in agreement. "Right, and then from there we can find out who the other perp is _and_ get DNA evidence." She turned the ignition and accelerated away.

**Stabler residence, 90 minutes later**

A weary-looking Elliot answered the door. Seeing their badges, however, his mood seem to lighten somewhat. "You're the cops from the Major Case Squad?" he asked hopefully.

"I'm Detective Alexandra Eames and this is Detective Robert Goren," the sergeant nodded.

"Come in." He opened the door wider, adding: "Did you find something out?"

"Well, Detective," Eames said, establishing a necessary professional rapport, "we need to interview Richard again…"

"Because he's hiding something, right?" He looked at her with hard steady eyes. "I got that feeling myself, only I know better than to press him-wait, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Elliot turned away them, bowing his head into his hand.

"You don't need to apologize," Eames said in fraternal reassurance. "You're more than entitled to be upset, and you're still a cop."

"But that's not going to help my son," Elliot replied, turning to face them again. His face was calmer. "All right, I'll go tell him you're here."

A minute later the detectives were in the teen's bedroom. Eames, a manila envelope on her lap, sat on a desk chair facing him as he lay on his uninjured side. Goren stood behind her, his binder open.

"But, what can I tell you now? I told you everything," the teen said guardedly.

"We have a suspect in mind," Eames began.

"So you picked him up? He's in custody, right?" He seemed more anxious.

She shook her head. "Not yet, sorry."

"We need more evidence in order for his father's superiors to waive _diplomatic_ _immunity_," Goren said, his emphasis gentle.

For a few long moments Richard was silent. His eyes widened as his jaw slacked; his face paled. Then, sitting up gingerly, he managed: "His-his accent-I thought…he was just…some snot-nosed British aristobrat! Now…now you're telling me he might get away with-" He turned his head away, falling silent.

"Richard-Richard." Goren was firm and yet gentle in his persistence.

"What?" He turned an anguished reddened face towards him.

"You can keep that from happening."

"How? By giving you his name? It's _Harry!_ Like that's gonna help!"

"How do you know that's his name?" Eames probed carefully.

"The other guy called him that! And then Harry told him to 'be quiet'!"

_Now I'm going to approach this subject gently._ "Which one raped you?" Her voice was compassionate.

"Harry!"

_And there's our DNA source_, thought Goren, making more notes.

"OK, now, Richard," his partner continued, "I have some photographs…" She opened the envelope.

Richard blanched again, leaning back slightly. _It's just pictures; I'll just look. It's just pictures; I'll just look. It's just pictures…. _He watched his hand slowly reach out to accept the short stack from the sergeant. He silently exhaled as he gazed at the first unfamiliar face. But when he uncovered the second one, he gasped audibly, dropping the other pictures, his eyes fixed agitatedly.

While Goren hurried to grab a wastepaper container he had spied earlier, Eames asked: "Richard, what it is?" _As if I don't know._

"H-h-he…it-it…it's Harry-he did it-he, he, raped-" He began to heave.

Goren positioned the small plastic receptacle near the youth. "Let it out; don't hold back," he counseled.

Unfortunately, young Stabler would soon have further reason for nausea.


	9. Chapter 9

**A diner, Toms River, NJ 12:30PM**

Having extensively interviewed a witness, Munch and Fin were having lunch before beginning the long journey home when suddenly something caught the sergeant's eye.

Catching his partner's actions, Fin inquired, "What's up?"

Glaring, Munch pointed at an overhead television. "Look who has something to say!"

Turning, Tutuola was stunned to see a broadcast of an indignant-looking Rikki Austin hurrying through a Kennedy Airport terminal with a small entourage. Although the sound was muted, captions stated that she had cancelled the remainder of her current tour to "comfort and counsel" daughter Ashley after the latter had been "taken advantage of by a _so-called_ friend!" She then continued walking without further comment.

Sighing and shaking his head, Munch remarked irritably: "Either she hooked up with one of her usual 'dates'-for-the night, and Mommy Dearest just can't face the fact that her 'precious'1 daughter's sexually active; or-I sincerely hope this is not the case-she's became a 'Special Victim,' and now, in most bitter irony, Ms. Austin will be pressuring our bosses to give bring her justice!"

Still glowering towards the set, Fin snarled: "Man, the brass had _better_ do something to fight this _quick!_"

**One Police Plaza**

Head bowed and fists clenched, Captain Ross fought for control. _So now the __victim__ is __perp__! Should have seen this coming; it's how Ashley got her chums to rape Richard in the first place! Now, __how__ do we counter this?!_

After a pensive half minute, he raised his head and seized the telephone. _I should have done this earlier! It would have been prudent anyway. _He punched in Goren's cell number.

"Yes, sir, we already know," the detective answered seconds later, riding shotgun with Eames. "That's why we're heading over to visit a certain teen."

"You're going to try to beat Rikki to her townhouse?"

"No, no. You see, earlier today TARU gave the results of their search of the car's phone records. Remember that call Ashley made after she and Richard had sex? It was to Monica Gibson, as in former NBA star and sports commentator Cal Gibson. I think she'll give an accurate description of Ashley's convivial après-sex mood."

**Gibson Residence**

"I thought I told you to _stay away_ from that girl!" roared Cal Gibson 10 minutes later in his well-furnished living room, glowering down at his daughter.

Squirming in the Louis XV chair and twisting a dark brown braid, the girl pleaded, "But I don't call her, she calls _me!_"

"And what did she say _that night_?" Eames interjected, trying to continue the interrogation.

"Well, as usual she started talking about great her evening was going," Monica explained, quickly turning away from her father's disapproving glare. "Some boy named 'Richard' this time-"

"'_This time?!_' Just how many guys she…"

"_Please_, Mr. Gibson," Bobby said, closing his book to raise a hand, "your concern is understandable, even laudable, but we really need to question your daughter uninterrupted."

Heaving a sigh, he conceded more calmly, "OK, fine. But _my turn's_ coming later." He spoke the last words toward Monica, who swallowed hard in response before continuing hastily.

"R-Richard and she, she said they were gonna out to all of her usual haunts-you know, the clubs, the private parties that she crashes."

"How did she sound?" Eames wanted to know.

"Really upbeat, excited, like she was really looking forward to something."

"What did she say?" Eames prodded. "Can you remember anything she said specifically?"

"Well, she said that, uh, he wasn't, umm, 'experienced but a fast learner,'" she managed, flinching as her father snorted in disgust.

"'Fast learner? Did she use those exact words?" Goren interjected.

"Yes. First, she said, that, uh, they, did, 'it'-and _then_ she said that he wasn't 'experienced but a fast learner.'"

"Anything else?"

"Well, she kept begging me to join them for a night out, but I kept repeating that my parents were home, and there was no way I would've snuck out. So, finally, she told me she'd call me 'later.'"

"How'd she sound when you hung up?" Goren was writing intently.

"Disappointed, but she perked up when I told her to call me today 'with the details."

"You what?!" Mr. Gibson yelled.

"That's the only way I can get her off of the phone!"

"OK, thank you for your time." Eames handed the girl her card. "If she does call, and if you remember anything else, please notify me-anytime!"

**Meanwhile, at the Stabler resicence…**

Elliot and Kathy were conferring with their priest when they were all startled by a loud bump from the ceiling and Richard's piercing scream.

1 Near the end of the episode, Rikki called her daughter "Precious."


End file.
